The Promise
by Araceli L
Summary: How far would you go to keep the promise to the one you love? Some promises are simply too important to be broken. A Kafei/Anju one-shot.  Also, the little blurb of poetry is NOT mine. It is by Paul Laurence Dunbar.


A/N: **Hayo! Here's a rather cookie-cutter story from me, though there is actually a deep meaning behind this one. I dug out the old 64 a few weeks ago, and Majora's Mask has to be the most interesting, depressing Zelda game I've ever played, and I've been wanting to write something up on it for such a long time. I hope you enjoy!**

_**The Promise**_

I'm sorry.

How many times have those words slipped from my sullen, silent lips? How many tears have I cried, furiously and despairingly? How many times have I entertained insane, reasonable ponderings? How many times have I missed you?

Too many.

I can't bear to look at the stars as they sparkle – they remind me of your eyes.

I can't stand to watch the sunrise in the morning – it shines as bright as your smile.

I can't take the way the moon glimmers on the water – it dances like your spirit.

I can't look in the mirror – it tells me I'm without you.

I lay awake in the shady shroud of night, and I hide away in the evenings. I slink away from daylight, skirting the edge of town – just for a glimpse of you.

Tell me you miss me. Can't you see me? I'm right here behind you. Can't you remember? I'm not that far.

I'm still alive, love – and don't forget me.

I'm sorry.

I can't live without you – and I don't know how I can go on this way. Disguised, powerless, forgotten. Don't forget me.

Don't say this is the end – I'll see you. Someday, you'll see me too. Perhaps our dreams will finally be our reality – perhaps you've forgotten our dreams. But I won't forget us.

I wonder, as I lay here, listlessly swirling a finger through the trickling water at my side, what it would be like if he had never come. If he hadn't cruelly torn apart what was to be our future, if he hadn't forced me into this, if he hadn't transformed into what I am now: lifeless, hopeless, forgotten.

The wind is my friend, but it is also my foe: it tortures me by stirring up the sound of your laughter. I don't know what to do. I can't speak to you, I can't remind you, I can't spill this secret that is keeping my life, and all because I made a promise.

Though at times I am content with the idea of losing my life – for my life is nothing without you. I will keep my promise, because it is no burden to bear.

The sun gently fades away into the hungry hills of Termina, eager to begin its long rest, but I am senseless and quite restless. I need to see her, my mind insists as I slowly gather myself up from the side of the stream.

Isn't that the truth. I always need to see you; I need you.

I sigh, bowing over the edge of the pool, endeavoring to restrain the weak tears welling in my scarlet eyes. How can I be so broken, so destroyed, so razed?

That treacherous, demonic child, spawn of the devil himself, child of death –

As I am glowering at my horrid reflection, my expression suddenly breaks into terror.

It is not any physical difference with myself; thank the goddesses, I have not become worse, but alas, I have also not changed. But in my days, lost as a being half of my true self, I have learned that constant vigilance is the only way my secret – and promise – will be kept.

The sun has finally sunk into the faraway Bay, and the moon has made itself known – yet it is not _normal._

A reflection shines upon the swaying sheet of water that I am gazing into, ten times its normal size and beaming blindingly upon my squinted eyes. I can see everything clearly from its aberrant light, from the miniature Skullatula on the wall across from me to the gleams of the 'misplaced' Rupees buried deep in the river below me.

What the—?

As I am rising, I am suddenly slammed into the moist dirt as an awful, horrendous, and agonizing shriek splits the solid night in two. I cannot help but cry out in pain at the terrible sound, piercing my ears as deftly as an arrow or spear might have flesh. I can't distinguish from where this appalling sound has come from, but as it rings in my ears, the stinging scream is somewhat similar to something…

I jolt off the ground from where I have fallen as I match the horrific, demonic bellow to one I have heard before, as a mere, innocent giggle…

I twist rapidly to face South Clock Town, my eyes searching vainly around the towers that are just protruding over the Laundry Pool's walls.

The moon is awe-striking, petrifying, and dreadful. It is eerily hanging, _far _too close, over the buildings of Clock Town, and the worst part is its grinning face. This is not the moon I know, the one that reminds me of my long-lost lover; this is not the _bella luna _that dances with the stars; this is some crazed, demonic version of the moon I used to love. What kind of evil has snuck into Termina?

And what doom will follow?

Who is responsible for this madness? I wonder quickly, shocked and horrified. I sweep my eyes along the towers again, trying to find someone to blame, to hate, to destroy…

I see nothing. I turn to look away (I cannot risk inspecting the situation) when my gaze catches on something.

A lone figure, illuminant under the foreboding moon, is standing upon the very top of the rounded Clock Tower, and its small arms are stretched to the moon's daunting and menacing grin, as though to embrace it. In the startling light of the corrupted heavenly body, I can pick up every detail on his evil mask.

This is the child that annihilated my life.

I clench my young fingers in infinite rage. I need to find him. I must kill him. He must not live.

I run, my chest heaving and my fists tight, to the entrance of my fortress, to regain myself and my life—

When I trip abruptly over my own feet.

Of course; I am nothing but a child. How can I, a man contained in my younger body, dare go against the evil Mask of legend? I am – was – not ignorant in the ways of old, and I have heard of that mask – the guise of the power-hungry, lustful, and chillingly cunning clan of old, the banished ones. I know of the power they left behind in the Mask – and I know fully understand the extent of my curse.

How can I dare even _think _about breaking a curse of Majora's?

_We wear the mask that grins and lies,_

_It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, –_

_This debt we pay to human guile;_

_With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,_

_And mouth with myriad subtleties._

I have no power, I have no abilities anymore. Oh Anju, I'm sorry.

"Hey, mister."

I snap my head up, attempting to clear my eyes of the tears that would have fallen, had I had any left to fall. There, in my ruby-eyed line of vision, is a young child in a green tunic, a Hylian, not Terminan, shield strapped to his back, far too large for his young back. But as I allow him to help me up, his hands are worn and calloused, hands far too old and experienced for a boy as youthful as he. His grip is strong as he pulls me to my feet, and when I straighten myself, I am being scrutinized by eyes of intelligent, bright blue. His smooth face is scrunched in lines of deep, old and intellectual lines of concentration, and something strikes me as very different about this boy…

I laugh bleakly as I realize the irony in this, but I know he can see nothing but my eyes. My handy Keaton mask is my façade, but this young child seems important. He seems to have the fate of the world upon his skinny shoulders, and in a reckless second, I ask him a question.

"What's your name?"

He continues to observe me as he speaks. "Link," he says, and then he slowly advances toward me. Before he continues further, I throw up my hand; it is so small, so young. It is not my hand; it is the hand of a child.

"Why are you here?"

He looks away. His expression is so much deeper than any child's should be; I cannot help but feel sympathy for him, as he seems as lost as I am. His face looks as though he's lived a thousand years of misery and torment; I wonder what could have possibly scarred such an innocent-appearing boy.

"Come," I say suddenly, feeling some strange sort of bond forming between us. Perhaps it is that tortured expression, which mirrors my own. "I don't know what's happened, but evil has invaded Termina. I fear we are in danger; come inside."

He glances at me, a distrusting spark in his eyes. I simply shrug, and head over the bridge to my hideout. For some reason, though, I am praying he follows. He seems far more important than perhaps he realizes.

I hear his quiet footsteps padding behind me as I dig the Pendant of Memories from my tunic, using the half as a key to my adapted home. The door creaks open, and I step through it. He follows silently, swinging the door behind him shut. I lead him down numerous stairs, and though there is nothing but muteness, I cannot help but feel tensed, as though I am anticipating something.

When we arrive in my "quarters", so to speak, I turn to him. He is watching me warily, though his hands are rummaging through a small brown bag on his hip. It is my turn to stare at him curiously as he continues to comb through the pack, and finally, he pulls something out triumphantly, thrusting it at me.

I take it, my heart racing. Who wants to contact me?

I rip open the maroon-felt letter, my fingers running over the gold lettering caressingly. I eagerly, hungrily throw open the folded letter inside, and my heart falters as I read the first line.

_My dearest Kafei,_

It's my Anju. She hasn't forgotten me – it's my Anju! She didn't forget! Ravenously I tear through the letter, and glimmers are glinting on the corners of my crimson orbs as I gaze back up at my savior.

"Can you keep a secret?" I ask abruptly, my fingertips still trickling over the smoothness of the handwritten letters that I clutch tightly in my other palm.

The young boy – Link – nods.

I am anxious, worried, and scared, but I am also hopeful, and I have not been for as long as I have been transformed into this.

I swipe my mask away from my face. "I am Kafei."

Link's eyebrows are pulled together, but a slight understanding is dawning in his eyes as they widen. The pulsating light-being at his side trembles a bit, then bounces as it suddenly speaks, surprising me.

"Wait! The Kafei we are looking for is an adult. When I look at you, I only see a child." Her voice is high and squeaky, and her tone is nagging, but I address her anyway.

"A strange imp wearing a mask made me this way. But that's not why I am hiding. When I went to see the Great Fairy in North Clock Town, a prancing man with a grinning face attacked me because of what I had been turned into, and stole my wedding mask…" My mask, the one I had created specifically for Anju, when we had been children, and made the light-hearted, giggling vow that turned into a solemn oath to someday marry each other on the eve of the Carnival of Time. Now she will never receive my mask…

"Oh my…I pity you…" the fairy murmurs, her bright light settling into a sorrowful blue. The boy in the green looks horrorstruck, and also strangely in denial. Can he help me?

Suddenly an idea comes to me. Roping my fingers around my accessory, I gently pull the Pendant of Memories from around my neck. "Please," I say, reaching out my arm with the ornament tucked into my palm, "Gives this to Anju."

Link takes the pendant, a solemn and pitying look upon his face. His fairy sinks slowly by his side, her fluttering wings only flapping every so often.

I stare blankly at the stained glass of the Curiosity Shop's window. I am somewhat reluctant to release the one thing that was my link to Anju, but if it is for her, I will do anything. Perhaps she'll forgive me. Perhaps she won't forget.

"And when you see her…"

The young hero gazes at me, promising and eager. I can't make any promises, but I am willing to believe – perhaps desperately – that he can help me. That he can fix this. That he will be a hero. Perhaps all is not lost, yet. I will never break my promise.

"Tell her…to wait for me…"

_I'll be there for you..._

_I promise. _

A/N: **So, whatcha think? :3 Anyway, the main reason I've been longing to do a MM fic is because it's currently the only Zelda game (that I own) that I haven't beaten. It's the freakin' hardest game I've ever played. I hate using online walkthroughs, but this game is so hard it's come down to that. It's, um, extremely difficult. I haven't completed the quest I wrote about (or the freakin' game) but I know everything that happens (couldn't resist). It's so DANG IRRITATING! And the most twisted Zelda to date. (I.E., I will be writing more about it.)**

**Anyway, this is just one of those fluffy romances I haven't written about for a while. I know it's probably been done a million times, but all I've been writing is depressing stuff. Speaking of which, if anyone here reads this that has read my story "Alone", I should have my new chapter up soon. Also, I think I may allow you to vote on the ending...**

**Hope you enjoyed! PLEASE review! :D**

**~ClumsyHeart17**


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